THE NEW YORKER as long as the initial load of gas held out, and that meant a takeoff with a tremendous weight of fuel in the spe- cial tanks that pressed close against the backs of the pilots. Indeed, the load was twelve hundred gallons- nearly four tons of gasoline to come jarring loose if anything unfortunate happened. We stayed at a little hate] near the shore of Lake Huron: a little crowd of newspapermen and press-agents, eight or ten mechanics and oil-company men, and the two pilots, waiting for the weather to blow clear for a week of continuous flying. Every morning at six-thirty we got the weather report, and every morning at seven-the re- port being unfavorable-the crowd would meet in one of the big suites up- stairs for breakfast, yarns, and the incredible laziness of simply waiting. Leigh and his companion pilot were al- ways bellwethers in the call for cracked ice and glasses. But one morning the weather was clear. The report from the Weather Bureau was good. And the mechanics got the ship ready for flight. Leigh went to the controls, finally, and he swung that awfully weighted ship V t1 ";'J \ #" ;., If<-;j \ l;b j} 1;;; /fh ,/ i / ' down the runway, rocked her off, and dipped into flight with a brutal domi- nance that made us catch our breath and then cheer a little foolishly. They banked around, floated overhead, and set out on the tight course that would hold them within range of the landing field for a few hours. A little before noon, when they were fairly overhead, the motor conked. We heard it cough once or twice as it surrendered to the terrible load it was bearing, and then a long white plume fell behind the ship as Leigh opened the release valves and the tons of gas were dumped out of the tanks. The ship came down for a long, smooth landing, and Leigh crawled stiffly out. "J ust in time for lunch," he said happily, and somebody put a flat little bottle in to his hand. AT five o'clock all of us were sit- r-l. ting in a little cottage by the runway. It was somebody's summer haven, that cottage. It belonged to one of the leading lights of the town, who had generously made It free to the aviators. And it was a most horrible mess. One of the mechanics, the night before, had bet that he could drink a - =:: - 21 pInt of whiskey in one draught. He had done it, and then wrecked the place. We sat in a dreadful squalor of broken chairs and mattresses that were ripped and torn, and watched the engine-men at work on the motor. An exhaust valve had stuck. ..A. little before sundown they came in to say that the valve was all right again, and the ship could take off any time. L 0 h ' . O d " c eIg s companIon saI: orne on, Carter, let's go." There was an almost imperceptible unsteadiness in the legs of this co-pilot, and a faint thickness affected his voice. Leigh? He was never unsteady on his legs. His voice was never thick. That was the basis of his ultimate pride. "Don't be a fool," he answered with some amusement. "We can't take off with that load and that engine with darkness just setting in. We've got to have daylight for the first ten hours of this flight, boy." "Carter," said the co-pilot slowly, "you're a yellow dog from Virginia." "Let's go," said Leigh. They crawled into the ship. The co-pilot's eyes were slightly glazed, and his foot slipped on the strut as he went up, but Leigh grinned. "The air will I.l t. 'f " 111 '( (f / /110 Tnl TOUIRI I 'LA, 11&IIìß i ",,_rlu IONAIII REN HUR AND THE WHIT!f HOR E' ALW/AVS ø 1. ENGRAV1ED BY JOUi.II:ILI) dlt WHO ç MlrIME WONID( R WHAT IT . All AROUI -= - --. . ---- ---== -,,:.-- - - ---= - - r--' -=====-